


Convalescence Part Four

by TheMuchTooMerryMaiden



Series: The only way that each can help the other [7]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Grieving, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden/pseuds/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden





	Convalescence Part Four

So Robbie continued to stroke and play with James’ hair until James fell completely asleep, a calmer sleep than he’d managed the rest of the time since he’d come back from the hospital. Then while that film played out and the next one, he tried to work out what on earth he was feeling and what he was going to do about it.

Robbie had begun to recognise that he had, what, romantic feelings for James some time ago, but the one thing he thought that age and experience had taught him was that such feelings, ignored and not acted on, fade. Except they really hadn’t faded, they were there a constant not-quite-ache, mostly not unpleasant, occasionally excruciating and now undeniably a part of him; the last few days with James ill hadn’t changed how he was feeling, but the tiredness and constantly being in each others’ company had lowered some of the defences he had insisted on until here they were. James stirred slightly and Robbie was caught up in watching him, waiting to see whether he would wake and what his reaction would be to waking up with his head pillowed on his boss’s thigh; when he didn’t wake Robbie was perfectly balanced between relief and disappointment.

It wasn’t as though Robbie wasn’t aware of how James felt. Or rather, he thought, how James thought he felt. _And that’s the rub_ , Robbie thought, _with what he’s been through how do I know this is ‘real’ and not just a miss-wired reaction to a father figure? Then again, we’re all a result of everything that’s happened to us, James is no different, and he’s a grown up and capable of making his own decision and I think I know how that decision would go. But what if I’m wrong and more to the point, what if I’m wrong for him_. Giving himself a mental shake Robbie consciously tried to think about something, anything, else but whenever he’d tried to think his way through this thing he came back to that same point, What if I’m wrong for him, and there was no way to answer it, it was an idea that could only be tested in the practical, and if he was wrong that test might be a test to destruction. _Would it matter_ , he wondered, _I’m due to retire soon, if it all went pear-shaped then I wouldn’t have to deal with it for long, but James has his career ahead of him, a career that would be enhanced by not being the DS whose boss made a pass at him however unsuccessful that pass was._

Resolutely Robbie turned his attention to the film, which by now was not the same film, not that he noticed; he was warm and he was comfortable and he had his arm draped over James and he drifted off to sleep.

Both men were woken up by the next but one film on the same channel, a noisy war film. Robbie was the more startled of the two flailing just a little and dislodging James slightly. Sitting up James asked,

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? The noise just startled me. Not surprising really it seems like the Japanese just attacked Pearl Harbour,” Robbie replied with a warm smile, “Should be me asking you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he paused and then continued again with a smile, “I’m more than OK as long as you are.”

“Never better,” grinned James, “still knackered though, there doesn’t seem to be enough sleep in the world at the moment.”

“You’ve got to love a good virus! I’ll make us some supper and then you can get back to bed.”

“Sounds like a plan; I’ll give you a hand.” Robbie kept his sceptical reaction to this to himself getting up and offering a hand to pull James up from the sofa. He was proved right when James’ contribution to supper stopped at leaning on the counter-top looking pale. He didn’t say anything when he realised that he really wanted James within arm’s reach, that he liked James watching him as intently as he was doing. The rest of the evening passed over the food, of which he noticed James ate a little more than he had been doing, and a repeat of some old comedy show; by ten o’clock James was yawning more than he wasn’t and took himself off to bed, leaving Robbie to try and get comfortable on the sofa again.

 

The next morning, after breakfast, Robbie popped his head round the bedroom door to see that James was on his laptop; he still looked washed out but he did finally seem to be picking up. “I’m just going out for a breath of fresh air, is there anything I can get for you.”

“No thanks,” James replied.

“See you in a bit, then,” Robbie smiled and pushed the bedroom door to as he left.

It was windy but not cold outside, just the ticket to blow the cobwebs away and the walk he had in mind was a fair distance but he did need to stretch his legs after the last few days of mostly being in the house and anyway it would give him chance to think.

The problem was that yet again given the chance for some uninterrupted thought his mind was everywhere at once and quite incapable of reason. _Pull yourself together, man,_ he thought as he continued down the road, _you need to work out what if anything you’re going to do about ... about James._ The problem was that thoughts of James were very, very distracting; they tended to leave him feeling breathless and more than a little aroused. Robbie remembered sitting with James, he remembered stroking and playing with his hair, he remembered the warmth of the lad leaning against him and later with James’ head pillowed on his thigh. What he needed was to talk the thing out with someone, and he knew who, hence the walk.

Turning in at the gates of the cemetery, Robbie made his way to Val’s grave, unwrapping the flowers he’d bought on the way, putting the cellophane into his pocket as he stooped to remove dead stalks and put the new flowers into the decorative vase which was part of the headstone. Robbie was used to talking to Val, he’d wondered at first whether it was the first sign of madness, but he’d always talked things through with her; almost the only time he hadn’t spoken out loud to her had been the time when he was fresh back into the country, when James had stood off, head respectfully bowed as Robbie left flowers.

“Hiya, love,” he smiled, “I need to talk to you about James. I know you wouldn’t mind me finding someone else, you were never one to begrudge people happiness, but I really don’t know what to do. He’s such a lovely lad, sensitive and caring, strong and kind, and he’s dealt with such a lot in his life, and,” he paused, “I think I love him.” Saying that aloud for the first time, even though he was, he reflected, only saying it really to himself, made him feel lighter and more alive than he had for a long time; he was aware of a giddy, breathless feeling that wanted to break out in a shout or a laugh. “You’re the only other person I’ve ever really felt like this about,” he continued, “when I want to talk it’s him I want to talk to, when I’m upset it’s his comfort I want, when I’m happy it’s him I want to share it with, just like it was with you. But there are problems.”

“I think I know how he feels, I’m nearly sure that he feels the same, but I’m not sure why. It’s not false modesty, it’s just that he has a chequered career, I’m fairly sure he’s been used and abused by older men and how do I know that he really wants this, that it’s not just a learned reaction?” Robbie paused, rubbing his eyes and smoothing his hair. “And then there’s the religion thing. He’s very religious is our James, maybe like the old joke says ‘you can take the boy out of the seminary but you can’t take the seminary out of the boy’. He might very well want what I want but be prevented by his religious scruples. I’d like to think not, I’d like to think he wouldn’t deny himself happiness over instructions written by desert nomads better than three thousand years ago, but then he probably doesn’t see it like that. I do know that it was the Church’s teachings on sexuality that made him question his vocation, I suppose I should be thankful, it gained me a damn good DS this last five years.

“And then I have to worry about how Lynn and Mark would take the news. He’s more of an age to be their brother than their father’s boyfriend. They wouldn’t want to picture my old frame with a woman let alone a bloke. It’s taken an age to get to where Mark and I can talk sensibly, I wouldn’t want this to wreck that again and I really can’t guess how he’d take it. I reckon Lynn’ll be OK she’s like you that way, tolerant and wanting people to be happy. I think she’ll just worry about the age difference.”

“And I could just be reading the whole thing wrong; they do say there’s no fool like an old fool, don’t they? Sure we spend a lot of time together, we share jokes, we can finish each others’ sentences but it may just be friendship on his part and I’m just, what’s the term, projecting what I want on to that? Sometimes that seems like the most likely thing. I wasn’t much to look at when I was his age and I’m not getting any better, I’m getting old and creaky that’s for certain, what would he see in me?”

“Then there are ‘rules’ as Innocent warned me. What would we do about that? Pretend and hide? That would probably be best for the lad’s career that’s for sure; the police force is not exactly a bastion of tolerance, too bloody macho still for that. Come clean? He’d be on someone else’s team and I’d probably end up working in training, no point breaking in a new DS at this point in my career. That’d be a shame, we’re a bloody good team most of the time, catch more than we let get away. On that basis Innocent would most probably be prepared to turn a blind eye, but would it change how we did things; would I try and protect him or would I over compensate, give him all the crap jobs, all the dangerous jobs.

“And, of course, if I make a move and I have read it wrong, then I’ll have completely stuffed everything up. I don’t think there’s any way back from a failed ‘pass’ between two blokes, especially if one of them’s been raised to see homosexuality as a sin. I’m not even completely sure how I feel about the physical side of things. You know I was never a hundred percent straight, always had an eye for a beautiful bloke, didn’t I, but it was only ever an eye, an appreciation, I never thought I’d contemplate anything more than an aesthetic appreciation, God, I’m even beginning to sound like him, that’s how far he’s got under my skin. But I am contemplating and picturing and imagining and taking cold showers.”

“So, what do I do?” Robbie asked with no thought of getting an answer. “I suppose I have to weigh up the pros and cons, don’t I? Balance the chance that everything will go tits up against just how good I think it could be. And yes, I know it’s not just my decision, that really would be treating James like a child. It’s him I need to have this conversation with.”

“Thanks, pet. I miss you so much, every day, but I know you’d want me happy,” and wiping his suddenly stinging eyes Robbie walked away from the grave side and headed towards home and James.


End file.
